


five times auguste shut down damen (and one time auguste supported damen in his pursuit of laurent)

by baekhyun (baruna)



Series: friendly maneuvers [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Five Times Plus One, M/M, auguste lives thank u, background jokaste/auguste, overprotective brother alert alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5967919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baruna/pseuds/baekhyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auguste turned around and said, too calmly: “Please repeat what you just said about my brother.”</p><p>“He’s very— he’s, um. Very.” Damen paused, tentatively searching for the right words. Auguste was beginning to look more and more murderous.</p><p>“He’s very <em>what</em>, Damen. Say it.” There was a burgeoning, insistent, crazed edge to his voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times auguste shut down damen (and one time auguste supported damen in his pursuit of laurent)

1.

“Your brother is really cute.” Damen said unthinkingly. Then he paled, once the reality of the words hit him.

Auguste was stock-still in front of him, cutting out decorations for the Halloween mixer. His scissors were open mid-cut as he froze.

“What.” August said. His tone was frighteningly blank, and Damen could only see the tense line of his back.

Damen wanted to die.

“Nothing.” Damen said quickly, turning red. He refocused on the decorative pumpkin and his eyes bored holes into the dark-orange nearing the stalk. Auguste had been telling a story about how one Halloween, when they were children, he had dressed Laurent up as a unicorn. Now whenever Auguste brought it up, Laurent denied it vehemently. They had both chuckled. Then Damen said what he had said, in the spur of the moment. It could have been taken innocently, if it were anyone else but Auguste and Laurent— there was cute, and then there was _cute._ Either way, it didn't matter; Damen was going to have to defend himself. 

He regretted everything.

Auguste turned around and said, too calmly: “Please repeat what you just said about my brother.”

“He’s very— he’s, um. Very.” Damen paused, tentatively searching for the right words. Auguste was beginning to look more and more murderous.

“He’s very _what_ , Damen. Say it.” There was a burgeoning, insistent, crazed edge to his voice.

Damen steeled himself. Auguste and him were long-time friends, and they had been brothers during the hellish pledge weeks of Damen’s freshman year, where Auguste had been an accommodating and generous big. Now, Auguste was visiting him again, and it was supposed to be a fun experience of catching up. Instead, his normally chiseled features were twisted up in a fit of protectiveness. So, Damen was going to tell the truth.

“He’s very good looking.” Damen pushed out, with difficulty. “And I said that he was cute.”

Deliberate pause. “I thought you liked women.”

“I do.” Damen said awkwardly. “I also like men, though.”

“Oh.” August said, and he looked a little less incensed, now. Suddenly, there was a moment of terrified, utter bleakness on his face.

“You aren’t thinking of _dating_ Laurent, are you?” Auguste asked, horrified. The look of repugnant, white terror on his face was somewhat offensive. Damen frowned. “I mean— you’re my favorite little. And one of my closest friends. But he’s my _baby_ _brother_.”

“I’m not.” Damen sighed, loudly. “I’ve never thought about dating your brother. You can settle down now.”

And with that resolved, Auguste returned to a normal coloring, instead of his pale imitation of a ghost, and they continued to assist in Halloween decorations for their fraternity.

 

But it was a lie. The truth was this: Damen had certainly thought about dating Laurent. And he had thought about sex with him, which was the cherry-on-top, despite knowing it was akin to self-flagellation. Maybe even ritualistic suicide, when it concerned Auguste, because the man was way beyond the embodiment of a simple, good older brother.

Auguste was a good man. In fact, he was quite similar to Damen. It was why they had gotten along so well.

He liked to open the door for old ladies and hold groceries for struggling college girls, who would flush when he smiled at them, and Auguste was the type to save kittens from the gutter or to make sure the kids from their local elementary school crossed the street safely.

But when it concerned Laurent, Auguste was a literal, hostile wasp.

He hovered around Laurent, buzzing incessantly at anyone who approached with seemingly malicious intent, even though most were harmless. Privately, Damen thought that Laurent could take care of himself— he still remembered the incident with Govart and the orange. God, that was frightening. But it was as if Auguste’s normally trusting nature dissipated into cautious paranoia.

Damen had thought it was quite amusing to watch. Until, of course, Auguste redirected those tendencies on Damen.

 

2.

“You don’t think Jokaste is interested in Laurent, are you?” Auguste asked, worried.

His blonde hair shone in the sunlight as they jogged together, breathing labored. It was a shade darker than Laurent’s, a dirtier blond. Damen liked jogging. It was stress-relieving.

“Believe me,” Damen said, “Jokaste is not interested in Laurent.”

“Then why does she keep finding him and talking to him?” Auguste persisted stubbornly. “She’s too old for him.”

They were stopping now; there was a red light.

Damen scowled. “She’s my age.”

“Like I said,” Auguste replied, “Too old for him.”

 

3.

The alumni networking event made Damen’s head hurt. He was exhausted already from a tiring day of class, and it had reached a peak point when his Professor had discussed the merits of soil for thirty-minutes straight in his late-night 7PM class.

Since Auguste was a successful alumni, he was there as well. And since Laurent was his undergraduate brother, he was also there.

“Hello.” Laurent said, and sidled up beside Damen. “You look tired.”

Damen did not look over. Mainly because he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop staring.

“Long day,” Damen replied casually, looking determinedly forward, “How are you?”

And then Laurent’s hand was at his elbow, the other at his back, pushing him in the other direction.

“It could be better,” Laurent murmured, voice heavy in Damen’s ear, who could feel the warmth of his breath tickling the hairs on his neck. “I am avoiding Herode, who has been pestering me all night.”

“Oh?” Damen managed. Laurent’s fingers were very long and slender on his arm. “Am I just a diversion to you?"

They stopped, near the drinks table, and Laurent smirked coyly at him. His eyelashes were very long and fanned his high cheekbones. Looking at him was an ode to beauty— it was overwhelming.

“You’re a very _nice_ diversion.” Laurent said, smiling, and Damen couldn’t keep the helpless smile off his face. Laurent was a bit younger than him, but they had met up regularly for things like lunch, since Auguste introduced them, when Laurent entered college. The flirting was now a real, tangible thing between them.

They stared at each other for a warm moment.

“Ha ha! Damen!” Auguste said, appearing out of nowhere. Damen cursed his luck and Laurent turned to smile at his brother.

“I was just enjoying a conversation with Damen.” Laurent said. His side profile was equally as elegant as the front.

“Were you guys? There wasn’t any talking though, just now.” Auguste said, and he slung an easy arm around Laurent’s shoulder, grip a little tight against Laurent's nicely pressed shirt. Laurent’s lips twitched.

“I suppose you’re right.” Laurent said. “Anyway, there are too many of Uncle’s friends here. I should leave.”

“Yes,” Auguste said, voice hardening, “I think you should. Stay safe.”

Laurent nodded. They all exchanged goodbye’s, and Damen found his eyes trailing after Laurent’s departing figure. His life was truly unlucky.

 

4.

“Perhaps you should simply kill Auguste and just get him out of the picture.” Jokaste supplemented helpfully, when Damen was discussing the issue with her.

“Right,” Damen said, “And where would that leave you?”

A slow, encompassing smile erupted on her beautiful face. “You’re learning to bite back.” She said, sounding pleased and not at all bothered by the jibe thrown at her.

“Men are just men.” She waved an arm nonchalantly, yet the motion was somehow sophisticated.

Everything she did was elegant, much like Laurent. They had that, and more, in common. It was was unnerving at times, the similarities between them. But she had feelings for Auguste, and Damen had feelings for Laurent. That was how it was.

“Auguste thought that you had feelings for Laurent.” Damen mentioned.

“Irrelevant.” Jokaste said, picking up a grape delicately and plopping it into her mouth. She had very fine features, salient of a model or perhaps royalty. Damen thought that Auguste would like her, if he got to know her better.

“Well,” Damen sighed, “That’s one way to get his attentions, I suppose.”

Jokaste paused, fingers hovering above the plate.

“And you, Damianos? How are your affections for mini-Auguste coming along?” There was a teasing lilt to her voice, but Damen trusted her advice.

He was just opening his mouth to speak, when his phone rang.

It was Auguste. Damen lifted his phone to show Jokaste the caller ID. She stiffened. Damen kissed his chances of venting goodbye, before picking up the phone.

“Hello, Auguste.” Damen said.

“Did I leave my mug in your room?” Auguste said instantly. “I can’t find it.”

Damen searched his memory, but could find no recollection of whether it was there or not.

“I don’t remember. I can check when I get back.”

“You’re out right now?” Auguste asked, “Are you with Laurent?”

Damen’s pause must have been too long, because when he said, “No,” Auguste had a delayed response.

“Give the phone to him.” Auguste said, tone hard.

“I’m not with him!” It was impossible that this was happening to him. Damen was being wrongly accused of colluding with his friend’s brother through the phone.

Finally, Jokaste plucked the phone out of his grasp and purred, lowly, “Hello Auguste.”

 

5.

Laurent was drunk. Laurent was drunk and he did not hold his liquor well. Laurent was _drunk_ and in _Damen’s_ _bed_.

It was a situation of mind-shattering proportions, and Damen’s hands fluttered around uselessly as he attempted to assess the situation. Yet, there was nothing to assess— Laurent was not assess-able. He just existed, and that was enough to break Damen’s mental faculties.

The more troublesome problem was that they were in Damen’s fraternity, and he was afraid that a brother would see him and Laurent fumbling around, and mistake an attempt to get Laurent home as an attempt to get laid. They all knew Laurent— Auguste’s precious, darling younger brother.

You touch, you die.

Damen was too young to die.

So, he was going to do his best to get Laurent home. And he would eventually get around to confessing his feelings before he graduated while managing to resolve the situation with Auguste. Somehow.

“Let’s get you home, Laurent.” Damen said, one arm trying to lift Laurent up.

Laurent was sprawled lazily across his bed, hair a halo around his face and his blue eyes unblinkingly staring at Damen. His shirt was unbuttoned near the top and his lips fell apart as he breathed, chest rising. Damen was suddenly acutely aware of how simultaneously attractive and unattainable he was.

“You don’t want to have sex with me?” Laurent asked. This was not happening.

“That would be rape.” Damen said, and tried again to lift Laurent up. It should not have been a hard task, but Laurent was resisting, gravitating his body weight in the opposite direction.

“So, you don’t want to fuck me.” Laurent said, stubborn.

Damen felt the redness in his face, but duly ignored it. “Laurent, you are drunk.”

“I am.” Laurent said. “I also want to have sex with you.” He said it with perfect, articulate seriousness.

It was the absolute worst time to be aroused. Damen ignored the painful twinge of attraction in favor of firming his voice.

“Laurent,” Damen said, “I will fuck you as many times as you want once you’re sober. But you’re drunk, so you can sleep in my bed, and I can go downstairs and sleep on the couch, ok?”

Laurent gave him a hazy smile. “You’re very honorable. And handsome.”

Damen wanted to record the memory forever and keep it encased. The image of Laurent, raw and honest, smiling at him like a literal angel, was enough for Damen to promise himself that when the weekend was over, he would ask Laurent out. And tell Auguste.

“Also,” Laurent spoke up suddenly, “I cannot sleep here.”

Damen furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I promised Auguste that I would not sleep in another person’s bed while intoxicated. It’s not safe.”

Damen stared uncomprehendingly. “You _just_ wanted to have sex with me.”

“That’s different.” Laurent insisted, “Auguste explicitly told me I’m not allowed to sleep in their bed.”

“You can’t even walk.” Damen pointed out, and Laurent stared at him.

“You can carry me out.” Laurent said, “Then I can Uber.”

It was the worst idea Damen had ever heard. It was ludicrous that Auguste wasn’t _even_ _here_ , and he was somehow still shutting Damen down. Damen did it anyway— lifting up Laurent when he was willing was easier, and very pleasing. The way Laurent slotted against Damen’s body was nice.

Then Damen ignored the stares of the brothers in the house, and sent Laurent home.

 

+1

“Hey.” Auguste said, “I heard you helped Laurent out of your room when he was drunk.”

Damen felt himself instantly go on guard. “I did.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I’m ok with you asking Laurent out.” Auguste burst out at the same time Damen said, “I’m sorry, but I’m love with your brother.

Then they looked at each other.

“You’re… okay with it?” Damen repeated, amazed and unable to hide his amazement. Auguste looked offended.

“Of course I’m ok with it. Of all the people to trust him with— it would be you.” Auguste said, and he was being honest now. The wide open look in his eyes and the line of his mouth was familiar.

“But all the posturing earlier— the comments, the cockblocking. Explain yourself.” Damen said, dangerously. Auguste flushed and scratched at the back of his head, a muscled arm leaning against the chair.

“I didn’t know that the feelings were returned,” Auguste managed, embarrassed, “But Laurent called me last night and quite severely emphasized that the feelings… were returned. And that I should stop orbiting. He said it was 'only funny in the beginning'.”

The sad, disgruntled look on Auguste’s face was enough to make Damen laugh, with inexplicable joy. The idea that Laurent had told his brother that he _liked_ Damen, and had known about Auguste all along (yet had done nothing but watch) was very Laurent-like. It was probably telling that Damen found it all endearing, rather than irritating.

“I won’t hurt him.” Damen said, “I know you’ll kill me if I do.”

Auguste laughed. “I know you know. But I don’t think you would hurt him.” The words were chosen carefully, and there was something in his voice that Damen couldn’t identify.

They shared a quiet, secretive, smile.

And when Auguste began with, “About Jokaste,” Damen laughed more.


End file.
